Child of the Light
by xXSweetestXAngelXNightmareXx
Summary: Gaara never expected to be a foster parent.  Not that it was a bad thing, he just didn't think he was the type. But Gaara wasn't painted in black and white, so maybe she wasnt either.
1. Chapter 1

**Hoo, boy, this is gonna be interesting.**

**Iggy: Yep. This may be one of your better ideas  
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**For those who didnt get it, this story is about Gaara and a young girl named Mitsuko who is afflicted with Aspergers Syndrome. It is a mental deficiency characterized by social ineptitude, including but not limited to failiure to pick up on social cues, literal interpretation, and formal and/or idiosyncratic speech. There are plenty more characteristics and Wikipedia actually does a decent job with it. It is one part of the Autism Spectrum. **

**Iggy: That's a lot of information. **

**...Yeah, I suppose you're right. Anyway, the reason that I'm not calling it that in this story because I dont think the psychology is quite there yet in the Naruto world.**

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><p>Twenty-year-old Gaara stood in front of the building, hesitant to go in. Though he had started the whole affair and made it his business to check in on it every few months or so, he disliked the absolute respect and fear they nearly beat into the children they housed.<p>

In all honesty, however, he had taken the idea from Naruto's own project in Konoha. Now the Hokage after Tsunade's resignation and subsequent acceptance to a seat on the Council, Naruto had started a small orphanage for the many children left without parents after the Fourth Shinobi World War. After hearing about the whole ordeal from Naruto during a diplomatic visit to renew their treaty (something that took all of two hours) he had proposed the idea to his own council. The idea went through swiftly. Soon enough, a string of small children's homes had sprung up across Suna.

Now, two years later, he still checked in on the Children's Centers every so often. Of course, he dressed in more casual clothes than usual, closer to the standard Suna shinobi minus the flak jacket, but that did not stop the small staff from standing up and bowing hastily with mumbles of "Lord Kazekage" when he walked in. He breezed past the reception area and slipped quietly into the noisy recreation area.

This particular center was smaller, around fifty living within its walls. This was because it was dedicated solely to those between the ages of ten and sixteen who had not enlisted or been apprenticed out. Those who remained were schooled well in various job areas so they would become contributing members to society. The experience tended to be worlds apart from the centers for the younger age brackets. The younger children tended to surround him, tugging on his pant legs or his jacket, asking a million different questions at the same time. He found that he did fairly well with small children – A fact that his older siblings teased him about endlessly, saying _"You hated people when you were their age, and now you're everyone's best friend,_" – but he preferred the somewhat quieter, older age bracket.

Few of the teens noticed when he walked in. Those who did quieted for a moment and pointed him out for their companions to notice. They would whisper, then return to whatever conversation they were having at the time, because by this time they were used to his random appearances, making sure they were okay. Most were in large groups sitting around wooden tables, seemingly segregated by age.

One sat apart.

She sat against a wall, not twenty feet away from him, focused intently on whatever she was drawing on a ratty old sketchpad. Interested, he casually strode over to the girl. She closed her notebook as soon as she noticed him. She looked away. Gaara noticed that she bit her lip.

"Hello, Lord Kazekage," She said softly. She wore the standard uniform for this place – A short-sleeved beige top, similarly-colored pants, and sandals similar to those worn by shinobi – but hers seemed to be a bit more tattered than the rest of the teens. Her hair was a dirty blonde and cut very short, almost shorter than Gaara's own (which reminded him, he really needed a haircut. It was starting to cut across his vision.) All in all, the girl reminded him of Matsuri, when she had been a shy student who could barely stand to look at anything with a blade.

"What is your name?" He asked after a moment.

"…Mitsuko," she said quietly, and without looking up informed him, "It was nice to meet you, Lord Kazekage, but it seems Miss Hana would like to speak with you."

Gaara turned his head, and sure enough the manager of the facility was gesturing at him to come along. Inclining his head to the girl, he said, "It was nice meeting you as well," and turned to join the older woman.

They had not gone far before the woman known as Hana turned to the Kazekage. "Sir, what did you say to that child to make her speak to you?"

Gaara frowned. What an odd question, "She greeted me first, and I asked her what her name was. Should I not have?"

Hana shook her head, "No, sir, that isn't it. Mitsuko doesn't normally talk to people, and certainly not of her own accord."

"Is that so?" Gaara pondered this for a moment. "Why is that?"

Hana shook her head. "She has been like that since before she came to us. After a while, we noticed that she didn't talk with the others, didn't make eye contact, and she had some trouble keeping up with her schoolwork. Often, she completely shuts out the world and absorbs herself into whatever she draws in her sketchbooks – She hides everything, but it keeps her happy, so we give her a new one every time she runs out. A few months ago, we took her to a psychologist for testing… The results confirmed it." The woman sighed. "Mitsuko is, by medical definition, mentally retarded."

_Mentally retarded_. Gaara had heard stories of people described as 'retards.' They were few and far between, but they ranged from having learning disabilities to apparently being unable to comprehend the world, being stuck in a state of mind similar to that of a toddler for their generally shortened lives. A few papers on the subject had crossed his eyes when Temari would speak about something she read in a magazine. Some psychologist would do a group study on the subject suggesting there were various forms of such a disability. It wasn't really something he was interested in, or something he had time for.

"I see." He said, and that was all they spoke on the matter.

They spoke on finances, the possibility of a small grant to allow them to buy recreational equipment for the teens, and the problem of bunk space for the teens. The bulk of it was a review of their annual budget, what was spent where, and as Gaara left the facility he was promised the taxes and spending reports by the end of the week. He watched as the teens paraded past them, from the recreation room upstairs to the gender-segregated bunk rooms to make ready for dinner. Most of the teens shied away, but Gaara was used to that, and it did make his mood lighten when someone would smile at him when they passed. Mitsuko, he noticed, was at the back of the line, and inclined her head as she passed. Gaara noticed that she once again avoided eye contact.

As Gaara left the facility and returned home, he pondered over the girl named Mitsuko. Temari and Kankuro noticed his unusually thoughtful look over dinner, and it was Kankuro who voiced this observation.

"You look lost in thought, little brother. Care to share?"

Kankuro had wiped off his purple face paint by this time, so Gaara was met with his brother's unmasked smirk. Gaara shrugged, "I was visiting the teen's center today."

"Oh, really? Did the council ask you to adopt an heir again or something?"

Gaara rolled his eyes, a rare but sure sign that he was more amused that he wanted to let on, "Of course they did, but that isn't the point."

Temari raised an eyebrow, "Then what happened?"

Gaara fussed with a broccoli crown on his plate, "One of the cases there spoke to me of her own accord."

Kankuro snorted, "That's it? Well, that's _kind of_ weird, but-"

"She's mentally retarded, Kankuro. From what I hear, she doesn't talk to people too often."

Kankuro's smirk dropped instantly. "Umm. Well, then. That's pretty…" He trailed off when he failed to find a fitting adjective.

Temari, however, looked interested. "What was her name?"

"Mitsuko," Gaara replied.

Temari nodded, "'Child of Light,' huh? What an interesting name."

Gaara nodded. "She was polite, but not overly so. It was …refreshing."

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><p><strong>Please, tell me what you think. Is it an original, or at least interesting idea?<strong>

**Iggy: That's why the button down there is for, see? The one that says "Review?"**


	2. Bonds

**Well, here's the second chapter. But thats not what this little paragraph is for. I would like to say that (profanity alert)people need to stop fucking fighting like fucking idiots and act like fucking adults for once in their fucking lives! I went through that once as a kid! It hurt a goddamn lot then, it hurts worse now. And this time it was between my father, stepmother, on one side and my stepbrother on the other. My stepbrother was defending his girlfriend who he didnt want to return home beccause apparently her parents are abusive, and the others were throwing a bitchfit because they wanted to take her home and it was all one big fat ass problem and i wanted to scream at them to shut the fuck up, all of them, or maybe run crying to 'my' room. **

**Why cant people just stop fighting around me?**

**I cant take the negativity.**

**Iggy is locked up in the room right now. I'm gonna head off to bed pretty soon. **

**I need my mommy, too I think.  
><strong>

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><p>Gaara returned again a week later to deliver the grant papers. As usual, everyone stood hastily and bowed, but he mostly ignored them in favor of finding the manager's office. He had, of course, run it by the council and while they had been apprehensive, they had finally agreed to a relatively small sum which would be enough to pay for a few new tables and art supplies and such.<p>

Gaara didn't like involving himself personally in matters like this, but he found himself hoping that some would go for purchasing new pads of paper for Mitsuko.

He paused outside of the door to the manager's office. Inside, he could hear a one-sided conversation, and against his better judgement decided to listen for a moment.

"You have to tell me who hurt you." This was Hana "I know you don't like looking at people, but at least give me a name."

"They'll hurt me again." Gaara's brow furrowed. Mitsuko was hurt by someone?

There was a sigh. "This is why you have to tell me. I cannot have a student's safety threatened, but I cannot have eyes everywhere."

"I'm okay, Miss Hana. Really."

"I can see we will get nowhere like this. Go find Miss Airi and have her patch you up." There was a scraping of a chair, and Gaara stepped back to allow Mitsuko passage. As she passed, he noticed that one side of her face was swollen and bruised. She stopped and bowed without a word before continuing down the hallway.

Gaara stepped into the room to find a frazzled Hana sitting behind her desk. She looked up at the Kazekage as he walked in, and smiled faintly. "Please tell me you bring good news, I don't think I can handle anything negative today."

"You have your grant, Hana." Gaara told the woman, and put the papers on the desk, "Do you mind if I ask what that was about?"

Hana picked up the top paper of the stack and leaned her chin on her fist, "Mitsuko has problems with bullies, and it's been turning violent recently. She apparently can't or won't defend herself, bless her soul." She frowned at the bottom of the page, "Sir, did you add an extra zero to this by accident?"

"No, I did not. I made sure to get you the full extent of what I legally could." Gaara said seriously.

"I see," The manager smiled faintly, "You really care about these children, don't you, Gaara?"

Gaara nodded, smiling inwardly at the use of his given name. Hardly anyone called him 'Gaara' nowadays; it was always 'Lord Kazekage' or 'Sir.' "No child should be forced to fend for themselves." He stated firmly, thinking of how his own childhood was rather tragic and scary, even by his standards.

And that was that.

Again, Temari caught her not-so-little littlest brother with his 'thinking face' during dinner. Luckily, it was just the two of them tonight, as Kankuro was taking a night patrol shift that evening.

Temari smiled. Her brother, who was working on a smaller pile of work he had brought home from the office, looked up at her and raised a nonexistent eyebrow. "What is it?" He asked shortly.

Temari pointed a finger and circled it around his face, "You're thinking about that child again. Have another run-in?"

Gaara shrugged, "Kind of." He said, returning to his work, "Can you believe this? The Council wants to lower the enlistment age by another year. We're not at war, and I doubt we will be anytime soon." He grumbled as he placed the paper in the center of the table for Temari to read.

Temari picked the form up and skimmed it, "Paranoid old fools. You'd think with Baki on the council, they would have a little more sense, but then again these are the same guys who are still convinced you're going to snap someday, regardless of the fact that you no longer house Shukaku."

Gaara, she noticed, winced just slightly. Apparently it was still a bit of a sore spot, even after five years and a war to boost his confidence.

A knock sounded at the door. Temari went to answer it, and found a shinobi messenger standing at attention, scroll in hand. "Official message to Lord Kazekage from the Sixth Hokage." The man announced.

"I'll take it to him." Temari said, and the messenger bowed and left her with the scroll. She returned to her brother, who in the minute that had passed had had signed off on at least a dozen more mission reports.

"Who was that?" Gaara asked.

Temari set the scroll on top of the paper Gaara was currently reading. "It's from Naruto, and it's official for once." She told him.

Almost immediately, Gaara signed whatever he was reading and opened the scroll, scanning it eagerly. Or at least, as eagerly as Gaara could be when anyone else was in the room. After a minute, he smiled slightly. "Naruto is asking permission to bring some of his orphaned teens to Suna for a week or so."

Temari blinked, "Really?"

"Yes. And in his own words, 'It'd be great! Who knows, it might save our lives if in ten years we get into a war with Iwa or Kumo or something, believe it!'" Gaara's voice climbed into a comedic octave, but his face was kept basically straight.

Temari blinked, then chuckled. "I think you should say yes. He does have a point, after all."

The Kazekage nodded, "I'll reply to him when I get to the office tomorrow."

"Are you going to say yes?

"Of course I am." He opened the scroll further to find a small seal at the end. An arrow pointing to it said _Open me!_

Frowning, Gaara touched the seal with one finger. There was a small poof of smoke, and suddenly there rested a photograph where the seal had once been. Gaara picked it up, and Temari moved to be at Gaara's side

The photograph was of Naruto and a few cases from his own orphanage. A few were teens, a few were smaller. One of them, a girl whom Naruto had taken to last year and fostered, then adopted, was wearing his old orange-and-black jacket.

If you didn't know thirteen-year-old Akiko was adopted, you wouldn't guess it – She had similar blue eyes, brown hair drawn back into two braids, and the same luminous, teeth-baring grin. She stood behind her adopted father with a few other teens, while her adoptive father sat cross-legged in the front, surrounded by about ten young children of various ages, the youngest being around three or four years of age and both having one of Naruto's arms draped on their shoulders. Writing near the top listed the names of everyone present.

A note attached to the back of the photograph read,_ 'Aki's getting taller, isn't she? She's entering the Chuunin Exams this time around, but she and her team are way past Chuunin level!' _

Temari smiled with her sudden brainstorm, "Hey, Gaara.."

"Yes, Temari?"

"What if you spent more time with that girl?"

"Who, Akiko?"

"No, I mean Mitsuko."

Gaara remained silent, gave his sister a look that read _where-in-the-world-did-you-come-up-with-that-idea?_ and rolled the scroll back up, placing it atop the photograph. "You're… saying I should become a foster parent." He finally said.

Temari shrugged, "I guess I am."

Gaara, having finished with his own dinner, rose with his dishes and moved past Temari in the direction of the kitchen, "What makes you think that I would be a good parent?"

Temari followed her brother, and held up four fingers. "There are four reasons you would make a good dad."

Gaara gave Temari a sideways glace, "Really."

"One." Temari ticked off a finger, "You're status allows you to provide for your family."

"That alone does not make a good father," Gaara refuted, "Our own was proof of that."

Temari gave him a dirty look, "I didn't finish yet."

"Then please do."

"Two," Temari continued, "You are a powerful shinobi who can protect your family if need be."

Gaara opened his mouth, but Temari cut him off with a glare.

"Three. You are young enough that you can still connect with teenagers without much trouble. Older people have a hard time with that, but you're barely twenty, and the last reason…"

Temari paused, then put her hand on Gaara's head and ruffled his hair, "You've already connected with her."

Gaara's brow furrowed in confusion. "Connected?"

Temari grinned. For being twenty years old, Gaara could be somewhat dense sometimes. "She spoke to you didn't she? You mentioned that she supposedly doesn't speak to anyone. Obviously, theres something there."

Gaara ducked out from under her hand and returned to his paperwork pile. He scooped up what little remained to do and strode out of the dining room.

Temari stared after him a moment, then chuckled. Though anyone else might think Gaara was mad at her, she knew better. Such and action only meant that he needed the time and space to think about it.

Temari would give it to him.

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><p><strong>End of chapter. I have nothing else to say, but stop fighting, world... Someone's gonna get hurt, and it wont always be you.<strong>


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